


Sensational

by Unpainted Canvas (RatTale)



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Helen Barnum needs a little love, Helen was seriously neglected in the film, Hurt/Comfort, I love Helen, Told through a child's perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 19:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20935835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RatTale/pseuds/Unpainted%20Canvas
Summary: Helen sometimes wondered if daddy loved her as much as he loved Caroline. Because unlike her sister, Helen wasn't sensational.





	Sensational

Helen loved her daddy.

But there were times when she wondered if daddy loved her too. Or rather, if daddy loved her as much as he loved Caroline.

With Caroline she could see how much effort daddy put in for her. How far he would go to make her happy. Helen sometimes felt that the whole house was bought just for Caroline, and that Phillip was brought in just to make her happy as well. Even though both things made Helen happy too. Especially Phillip.

But they weren’t done for _her_. They were done for Caroline, and mommy.

They always went to the ballet rehearsals to make sure that Caroline had their support, to make her feel loved. Helen always went along too, to be another friendly face in the crowds, to help her sister shine when she danced across the stage – and Helen wanted her to shine, she liked seeing her sister happy. And daddy loved watching her dance too. He always smiled so nicely, like nothing in the world could make him happier.

Helen wanted him to look at her like that.

But Helen didn’t dance or sing; she wasn’t an acrobat or a juggler, a fire eater or great actor. Helen loved painting. Bright pictures of flowers or ponies. Sometimes of mermaids or unicorns, and once of Lettie. Which she gave to her. Lettie had loved it so much she’d put it up in her new caravan. For Helen it had been the happiest day of her life.

But she’d never given her daddy a picture. She felt quite certain that painting wasn’t flashy enough for her ‘Greatest Showman’ daddy, because it wasn’t _sensational_. Which was why, she thought, he preferred dancing-Caroline. And why Helen never gave him any of her pictures.

Mommy loved her pictures, and often told her how good she was. But Helen wanted daddy to be as proud of her as he was of Caroline.

Which was why today she was painting one for daddy. It was her biggest work yet. Twice as big as the usual paper, mommy had bought it especially. She had to use so many colours to do it right. She even got a brand-new fine brush! It took the whole day to make sure everything was perfect.

When it was done, Helen stood back, admiring all her hard work. It was bright and colourful and big and_ bold._ A word grown-ups used to describe good paintings. A mounting uncertainty settled around her. I t still wasn’t _sensational_.

Helen stamped her foot, chasing the bad thoughts away. She was going to make daddy proud!

No later had it dried when she heard the front door open and close. Daddy was home! Caroline and mommy were in town, so it was only Helen and Bernard, their butler in the house. Gathering her courage, she grabbed the painting and ran down stairs. Daddy wasn’t in the foyer.

She quickly made her way to his office, her heart pounding and ready to burst from excitement. She could already imagine daddy picking her up and hugging her close, telling her how proud he was of her. Excited, Helen opened the door and ran in, “Daddy!”

“Hello, darling.” Daddy turned around to kiss her on the head, but quickly turned back to his desk, shuffling through papers. “I won’t be staying long. I have to get back, Phillip is sick and he needs someone to take over tonight. But mommy will be home soon.” He tossed a few papers aside.

“Daddy! I want to show you something!” Helen held up her picture in front of her chest, waiting for her father to turn around.

“Blast it! Where did I put that thing?” he glanced over his shoulder, “I’m sorry Helen, I’ll look at it a little later, okay?”

“But daddy, _please_ look!”

Daddy turned, his hat, cane and papers in hand and walked over, staring briefly at the picture as he did so, “Yes, darling it’s lovely. But I need to go now.” He pecked her on the head once more and left.

Helen’s arms dropped, letting the picture slide down to her knees. She listened as daddy spoke to Bernard, promising to be home later and then the door slammed shut. She stared at her shoes, her vision blurring and big fat tears plopping on the carpet.

Dropping the picture Helen ran to her room, her throat tight with tears her chest heaving from the effort to breath around them. She collapsed on her bed and let the sobs rip loose. It hadn’t been good enough! It hadn’t been sensational and big and bright and everything daddy wanted! Helen wasn’t Caroline, Caroline’s talent was better, and Helen would never make daddy proud. These thoughts and so many others filled her up to the brim, making more and more tears fall until her head ached and her throat felt raw.

Bernard came to check on her. He brought her some milk, and tried to talk to her, but Helen didn’t want to talk to anyone. She just wanted to be left alone.

Hours later when she had no more tears to cry, and she’d finally fallen asleep she woke up to voices in the hallway. Outside the sun had already set and she could hear the crickets chirping around the house. Helen listened to the voices. It was mommy and daddy. Another spike of hurt pierced through her and she felt another wave of tears threatening to spill.

The door opened. “Helen?”

It was daddy. She didn’t answer and curled up a little tighter, moving away from his voice.

Heavy footsteps walked in and a moment later the bed dipped when daddy sat down next to her. “I found your painting in my office.” his voice was gentle, warm, as it always was when he tried to make amends.

She buried her face deeper into the crook her elbow.

She heard him sigh, “I didn’t get a chance to see it properly before I left this afternoon.” He said, “It’s beautiful, Helen.”

“No, it’s not!” the words burst from her, ripping straight from her heart.

“Yes, it is!” he leaned closer. His voice now soft with a smile “You think I can’t spot talent?”

Helen curled up around herself, “You don’t really think so! You’re lying!” her throat tightened with tears.

“I’m not lying, Helen.”

“Yes, you are! It’s not good enough, it’s not big or bold, or spectaclurur like dancing, or singing… ” her voice shook and trembled. “You’ll never love me like you ...”

“Like I love who, Helen?”

She paused, her throat so tight she didn’t think anything could get out. When it did her face crumpled “Caroline.” more sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake and tremble, “I wanted to make you as happy as she does, I wanted to make you smile too...”

Before Helen could say anything further, daddy pulled her up and close to his chest, where she immediately buried her face into. Her hands gripping his vest in her fists. “Oh Helen, I love you and you _do_ make me proud. So very proud.” His arms tightened around her, his voice wavering and rough, “More than you can possibly imagine, my darling, my little angel.” He rocked her back and forth, “I love you so much. And I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt that.”

“I’m not your word.” She said, sobs cutting her words up into pain filled chunks, “My paintings aren’t sensational.”

Pulling back, he tilted her head up, revealing his own tear streak cheeks, “Caroline might be a sensation on the stage, but here in this house, you are my brightest star. You fill up my darkest parts with so much light I forget I have any problems. You’ve only ever made me feel like the most perfect father. And that Helen, makes you wondrous to me.”

“Wondrous?”

He smiled, the sadness lifting from his eyes to be replaced by the same warmth and love they always had, “My eight little wonder of the world.”

Helen burrowed close, safe and warm in her daddy’s arms. He loved her, as much as he loved Caroline. All the heart ache melted away in the face of such a marvelous realization.

“I do hope you keep painting.” He said after a while. Helen peaked out to look at the painting on the bed. A bright Circus tent, standing proud against the backdrop of New York. “Because this is truly…”

“Sensational?”

He laughed, “No. It’s wonderful.” He pecked her on the head, “That is _your_ word.”

All the hurt faded away and Helen hugged her daddy tight.

The following morning, her picture was framed and hung in his office where it remained for a very, very long time. Helen doesn’t doubt her daddy’s love anymore, and she has made sure to fill up the rest of his office with even better paintings. But Helen doesn’t mind if daddy doesn’t like them. He loves her not for her paintings, but only for her. Because she’s _wondrous_.

**Author's Note:**

> If there is one character that was neglected it had to be Helen. I loved her sweetness to Phillip and Lettie. But I wrote this to have a moment between her and her father. P.T. loves his kids so damned much, but a lot of time in the film focused on Caroline. So here is one for Helen. I hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
